


Honor You

by blissfullylostinarabbithole



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 23:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissfullylostinarabbithole/pseuds/blissfullylostinarabbithole
Summary: Bucky craves your touch, but is running out of excuses to ask for it.





	Honor You

 

It had been an all hands on deck situation, and Bucky was just going to have to suck it up. He was lucky enough to have Steve beside him on the way there, but when you were the only one who hadn’t yet returned, he grew anxious as he eyed the last available seat; right next to his.

You ran up the ramp, sweaty and breathing heavily, clutching a case to your chest. After you secured it, you saluted Steve and turned back toward the seats.

“Sorry, Bucks,” you smiled apologetically. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for the next several hours.”

“S’ok,” he shrugged, trying to appear as calm as possible.

You took the seat and buckled up, being careful not to touch him as you settled for the long flight back. Not long after takeoff, Bucky sensed your body relaxing, and knew you were about to fall asleep. As he thought, your head landed softly on his shoulder, making him go rigid on contact.

Your hair was damp from perspiration, magnifying the usually subtle scent of your shampoo. They mixed into something Bucky found intoxicating, and after he felt his own body relax, he turned toward you and buried his nose into your hair. He hadn’t noticed he was falling asleep until Steve gently shook him awake.

“Have a nice nap?” he asked, his tone laced with amusement. “Get her up. We need to debrief.”

Bucky waited until the others left, blushing at the smirks some of them sent him.

“Y/N?” he gently nudged. “We hafta head in now.”

A yawn escaped you as soon as your stirred. “Buck?” you blinked up at him. “I’m sorry, did I fall asleep on you?”

He bit back a whimper. Already his skin was mourning the loss of your warmth. “Don’t worry about it.”

You grabbed your things and headed out toward the conference rooms. Bucky kept ‘accidentally’ brushing his hand against yours, making his arm break out in goosebumps. Once the meeting began, his focus kept drifting, wondering how he was going to get to feel your touch again.

He got his chance the following day during training.

It wasn’t his fault he was distracted; it was those grunts and sighs you kept emitting as you did pull-ups that were doing his head in. After something that sounded more like a moan reached his ears, he hesitated, giving Steve the opportunity to knock him off his feet. He hit the mat hard, and before he could get up, both you and Steve were kneeling over him.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked, wide eyed. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

“I’m ok, Punk. Just got the wind knocked outta me is all,” he assured as he sat up. His eye flicked over to you just as your hands reached for him, making him gasp when you dug your fingers into his hair.

“Sorry,” you smiled sheepishly, thinking you’d hurt him. “I don’t feel a bump forming, but you should probably take it easy for the rest of the day.”

All too eager to agree, especially when you offered to help Steve help him to the common room, he ended up putting more weight than was necessary on you. When you situated him on the couch, he asked Steve to get him some water, and when he left, Bucky turned to you and asked of you could check for a bump again just to be safe. His eyes rolled back into his head at the sensation, sighing when you pulled back and said he was still clear.

He kept asking you to check for about three days, and the last time, you had pulled back with a soft chuckle and told him he was in the clear.

Since then, he went to you for almost everything: first aid for the slightest scrape, a cramp in his leg that needed massaging, an itch he couldn’t reach. He was running out of ideas, and it was getting ridiculous, but he didn’t care as long as you were willing to help him. He was especially pleased by how easy it was to talk to you during those brief moments, so much so, that he’d even joked around with you some. When the others started taking notice, he stopped doing it to avoid their teasing, or worse, having one of them tell you. The downside was he getting antsy around you, eager to get your hands on him again.

It was during a barbecue that he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Wanda wanted to go swimming, but didn’t want to put her hair in a bun. You offered to french braid it for her, and he watched your fingers manipulate her tresses.

“Y/N!” he blurted. “I need you!”

“What’s up?” you asked, noticing the others suppressing laughter.

“I…” He’d done it this time. He had no clue what to say. “My… head itches. Can you… check me for… lice?”

Bruce choked on his drink, and the others laughed, making Bucky cringe.

“Lice?”

“Yes. Those are still a thing, aren’t they?”

“Barnes, you know we have a medical staff for that kind of thing,” Tony informed with a smirk.

“I know, but I don’t trust them,” he trailed off, looking to you like a lost puppy.

“It’s alright,” you told the others. “I don’t mind. I’ll meet you in your bathroom in a few, ok?”

He grinned widely and nodded, hurrying inside.

“Please tell me you’re going to put the man out of his misery and ask him on a date already,” Sam begged.

You finished up Wanda’s braid and tied it off. “What do you mean?”

“He’s been asking for you to help him because he likes you,” Wanda giggled. “Like really likes you.”

You looked to Steve for confirmation, who tried very hard to avoid eye contact. Looking around as the others nodded, you quickly excused yourself and made your way to the medical wing before heading to Bucky’s.

As soon as you walked into his bathroom, you saw the way he perked up, and knew there was some truth in what the others had said.

“Alright Bucks, I’m going to need you to sit right under the light.” You put on the gloves and grabbed the small combs, positioning yourself behind him. As you checked him, you started noticing the way his head subtly leaned into your touch. You glanced at the mirror, your jaw nearly dropping at the way his eyelids fluttered as his lips curled into a faint smile.

“Ok,” you croaked. “You’re clean.”

His eyes flew open and you tore your gaze away from the mirror.

“You sure? Didn’t feel like you looked all over,” he rushed out.

You removed the gloves and slowly dug your fingers into his hair, giving his scalp a gentle massage.

He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him; it had been so long since the last time he asked your for help. The blood rushed to his face and he swallowed thickly before he started stammering. It was endearing, and your own cheeks began to warm with flattery.

“Bucky, do you just like me touching you?” Your voice dropped, sending a shiver up his body.

He pursed his lips, not trusting his voice, and simply nodded.

You tugged on his hair gently. “Silly boy,” you tsked. “A gentleman would’ve asked me on a date before asking me to make him moan like that.”

“No!” he turned abruptly, looking panicked. “I wasn’t bein’ a pervert or or…” he trailed off, sighing in relief when he saw your teasing expression. “I uh, I didn’t think you’d ever wanna. Ya know? With me.”

“I don’t see why you’d think that.” You met his sad smile with your own encouraging one. “It’d be an honor. You know, if you actually asked.”

His posture straightened as he took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “Y/N, would you allow me to honor you with a date?”

It took a moment for his wording to sink in, and he mirrored the playful look you shot him. “Ok, smartass,” you laughed. “You may honor me tomorrow for lunch. That alright?”

“Perfect,” he smirked. “You’re goin’ to be so honored, you’ll see.”

You rolled your eyes and nudged him toward the door. “Shut up and get back outside before I tell the others you  _DO_  have lice.”

“But then Tony will quarantine me and I won’t be able to-”

“Say ‘honor’ once more and I’ll honor your ass with my foot,” you threatened, barely able to hold back laughter.

“I don’t do that on the first honoring,” Bucky jovially chided. “What kind of fella do ya take me for?”

“The kind that’s gonna drive me nuts, apparently,” you muttered.

“Oh Doll,” he purred, “you have  _no_  idea.”

* * *

 


End file.
